Firebug
by LullabiesCradle
Summary: Emily Elizabeth "Firebug" Smith is a junker. Not born but raised. She learned the strength of fire at age eight when her world went up in flames. Follow Emily in her adventures through the outback.
1. The ashes of home

"Fire, water, and government know nothing of mercy."

It's an old Albanian proverb that my mother taught me as a child. Living on the shores of Australia, I learned the first two rather easy.

Fire was a part of my everyday life. The flames of the stove as my mother cooked breakfast before school. The flickering fire of the candles that lit our home during the power outages. The orange color of my hair that my sister brushed for me every night before bed. I was accustomed to fire from an early age.

Fire was something to be respected. At age three, I learned that trying to grab the flame or a candle I found especially pretty. The stinging in my pale, burnt fingers and my mothers' scolding taught me well. At age five and one half, I saw my first wildfire. The news was on at home after school. I watched as I drank my juice box, curious what the big fuss was about. The newscasters' somber voice and my mother's grim face told me plenty. This was not good.

The wildfire ended up spreading to part of my town. My mother took what things we could spare and brought them to our neighbors. As I helped give out our few offerings, I found I quite liked helping people. The smiles that they gave in return was plenty enough for me.

Water was another part of everyday life. The ocean that I saw everyday on the way to school. The rainstorms that came in from the sea, pattering on the roof of our homes. The deep blue color of my eyes, like a lake that you could endlessly swim through. Water was there from the beginning of my life.

My summers were spent swimming through the ocean. I learned to swim in a rather unconventional way. By almost drowning. I fell off a sand bank and into a deeper area than I could stand in. My sister saw me fall, and went for my mother. When they rushed back, I was paddling and just barely keeping my head above the water. The week after this event I had pneumonia from the water that got in my lungs. The racking coughs told me I should not underestimate the ocean.

The summer also brought rainstorms. I would hear the pitter patter begin, and run for the door. I loved the gentle rain that I could play in, jumping44 in puddles and skipping through mud. I loved the thunderstorms, watching the lightning strike and listening for the rumble of thunder.

My mother would help me brush my copper hair after playing in water. While stick straight and compliant when dry, after causing mischief in the water it became wild and unruly. We would sit in front of the fireplace and she would tame the wild beast my hair had become. I didn't truly appreciate that she did that for me. I didn't appreciate many things that my mother and sister did for me.

It wasn't until age eight that I learned what that particular phrase meant by the third word in that list. "Fire, water, and government know nothing of mercy."

Growing up in this small coastal town of the outback, I wasn't exposed to many things outside my little world. I didn't understand why mother watched the news mostly at night when I was in bed. I didn't know what an omnic was, or why they seemed to scare the grown-ups of my town. I didn't know why the government giving up a factory to the omnics was such a big deal. I simply didn't understand that my world was going to change.

I was eight years old when my world went up in flames. The day started out normal, like any other school day. I woke up to the smell of my mother's cooking. My sister had already woken up and was brushing her teeth. My nose scrunched at the sight or that. I hated eating after brushing my teeth, the mint taste of toothpaste messing with the flavors of the food.

I brushed my long amber hair, and put on clothes for school. Going to the kitchen, we ate breakfast as a family. Mom went to work halfway through the meal. I slipped my shoes on and my sister walked me to my school. The day went on as normal.

Being a child, I didn't understand why the teacher left the classroom and came back pale, looking like she might faint at any moment. I didn't understand why parents flooded the school, picking up their children and hurrying off. I didn't understand why my mom came for me before the school day was over, looking like she might break down in tears at any moment. I didn't understand why the town looked so different, bathed in the flames I thought I loved.

My mom tried to explain to me.

"Its nothing sweetheart, we are going to be okay." I didn't understand. We ran towards the town hall, where my mother said there was a safe place to be.

"Remember what your teacher taught you last week? About the omnium and how omnics were working there?" I didn't understand. We didn't make it far. At the path next to the beach, halfway to the town hall, there was a group of men with loud machines in their hands and omnics as far as I could see

"You know the big scary robots that you promised mommy you would stay away from?" I didn't understand. My mother desperately looked for a place to hide. There was a small hole in the wall of sand that lined the shore.

"Sweetheart, you know the game we play at home? Where you hide and I try to find you? We are going to play that for a little bit! I need you to hide here until I find you." I didn't understand what was going on at all. I went to the small hole and crawled until my mother could barely see me.

"Emily Elizabeth Smith, I love you. You know that right?" She said. Her voice cracked at the end. I didn't understand why.

"Yes momma, I know that. Are we gonna play that game now?" I replied. I didn't understand why we were playing a game, but I was excited to try.

"Sure sweetie, remember to be quiet as a mouse, and stay there 'til I come get you. I love you." She rushed off before fully finishing that sentence.

I stayed there for what seemed like hours. I stayed quiet like my mother told me to. I was quiet while the noises got louder. I was quiet when I heard screaming, wild and terrified. I was quiet while the noises went on and on, only to stop to silence. The sound of the sea and the waves crashing upon the shore was my only company for what seemed like hours.

It was dark and quiet when I finally got out of the hole. I didn't understand why my mother never came for me. When I crawled out, and climbed up the sand dunes to see the wreckage, I finally understood.

There was the smell of iron and copper in the air. Smoke wafted up from the ruined buildings that faced me. But most importantly, was the bodies in front of me, omnic and human alike. It wasn't something a child should see, but I was there regardless. The men with the machines that had blocked our way were dead. The omnics that had scared me so bad were dead.

My mother, who moved no more, was dead.

She was on the ground, riddled with holes. She seemed to be reaching for the ocean, away from all the violence that she must have faced. Her eyes closed, face unmarred, I could have believed she was sleeping. I could have believed that she was taking her afternoon nap after a hard day of work. I finally understood what she was doing the whole time.

She was protecting me. And now she was gone.

As far as I could see, there was wreckage and the remains of violence. I didn't know what to do. So I did what any child would do in my situation. I sat down next to what remained of my mother, and I cried. My pale face was streaked with soot from the burning buildings around me. My deep blue eyes were filled with tears that screamed of my sorrow. My hair, the color of the flames of my home, surrounded me in a wild tangle.

But through all of this sorrow, I still remained quiet. It was the last thing my mother asked me to do. I had decided to do it well. I sat next to her body, shaking with silent sobs for the rest of the night. The flames that I had loved lit up the night, and the sound of the sea I grew up with filled the night.

I had later learned the reason that all of this happened was because of the omnics and the government. The government gave them the omnium that so many people had worked in. The government gave no aid to the people displaced. So the people rebelled. The omnics fought back, and it led to the omnium being blown to bits. My town was caught in the crossfire, and destroyed.

At age eight, my world went up in flames. At age eight, I truly understood the phrase that my mother tried to teach me.

" _ **Fire, water, and government know nothing of mercy."**_


	2. Schaffner?

It wasn't until dawn of the second day without my mother that someone bothered with me. A relief worker of some sort found me amongst the bodies and took me away. He actually thought I was dead from how quiet and still I was. He tried to talk to me as he dragged me along.

"Kid, what's ya name?" I stayed quiet. My mother told me to stay quiet like a mouse and so I did.

"Oi, are ya listening to me ya little bugger?" I stayed quiet. He didn't seem to quite like me.

"My job is that much harder to find ya parents if ya don't speak." My eyes started to tear up at the thought of parents, as I realized mine were gone. I remained quiet.

I think he got tired of me as he dropped me off in some camp. There were lots of other kids my age, and adults rushing around them. I sat quietly, not moving. It was a while before an adult noticed me. They tried to get me to speak, just like the last one. I still stayed quiet. Eventually, they got my name. The adults sent me along to a bus where a group of kids waited.

A small girl my age was crying. "Where are they taking us?" she wailed.

A boy that must have been a year or two older answered her. "Probably to an orphanage. That's where the kids with no parents go, right?"

I stopped paying attention to the conversation after that. If the grown-ups got my name, and still sent me to the orphanage alone, that must have meant I had nobody left. I wondered what happen to my sister. She's probably dead if she couldn't come with me. I knew my dad was dead from before I was born, taken by the military to fight a war I didn't understand. My mother was obviously dead, the image of her corpse still fresh in my mind. It sunk in. I was well and truly alone.

Whatever the adult were waiting on must have been done, because they ushered us onto the bus and began driving. I had ridden on a school bus before for a field trip, and it was much louder than this. My classmates had been loud and excited, looking forward to our trip. The current group of kids was quiet, the tense atmosphere seemed to choke the life out of everyone here. There was no trip to be happy about. Just a lonely orphanage at the end of it, where we traveled to it alone.

I sat quietly, watching the scenery change. The sea that I so very loved had long since passed. We must be going further inland. I began to get confused. Our teacher had told us last week that the omnium was in the center of the country, so why were we going closer to it?

Leaving my musings behind, I paid closer attention to the scenery. We were on a highway in the bushland. We had been traveling for a couple of hours. As we got further along, the scenery began to warp and change. There was a few scattered fires, eating the bush greedily. There seemed to be small pockets of violence left behind. But most importantly, when we were almost at our destination, there was another ruined town. It looked similar to my home left behind.

The bus that had been quiet before, was deadly silent. I looked out to the ruins left behind, and saw that there were other people here. They were rugged and soot-covered, watching us as the bus drove past. Questions flew through my mind. What were we doing here? What are they going to do about us? What is going on? Sure enough, I was answered.

The lone adult on the bus, other than the driver, stood up to get our attention. She was wearing a fancy outfit, and had shiny shoes that told of what little work they have seen. She cleared her throat, brushing back a bit of clean hair. "As I am sure you have realized by now, all of those on this bus has lost their families. With the resources being few as it is, there are not many places to go." She paused, clearing her prim and proper voice. "The Australian government has deemed this town as an acceptable home for you. The people here have decided to take you lot in, albeit reluctantly." She lowered her voice at that, mumbling something about savages and being grateful. "We of course, offered supplies for them in return. Kids, welcome to your new home! Bleakburn!"

The bus was quiet. Nobody moved. I don't know what she expected. Applause? We watched her silently. She stared back. Fidgeting, she cleared her voice and continued. "Well, anyways, I'll need you lot to state your name and age as you reach the front of the bus. We will place you with the family assigned to you!" Nobody moved. We weren't exactly eager for this. I knew all I wanted was my home and the sea I already missed.

"Come on, hurry up! Let's get this over with." She seemed rather eager to be done. Someone finally moved. It was the girl from earlier, who had cried for her mother. She moved quietly, until she was staring up at the woman. "My name is Alice Lakefield. I'm eight," she said hesitantly. It could almost be cute, if it wasn't because she had lost everyone she loved and was about to be sent off. The woman pulled out a clipboard, and searched the paper. She mumbled quietly as she looked. Finding what she was searching for, she called out a name through the open bus door.

My attention was lost after that. I hadn't even realized the door was open, much less the group of people that stared expectantly in. The adults that I had saw earlier were waiting. Probably for the child to be shoved off to them like a baton in a race.  
My mind whirred. I wonder what type of family I will join. Will they be like my mother? Hardworking and willing to sacrifice everything for the ones they love? Or will they be rough, like the savages the prim woman had called them. Will I grow up here happy? My musings were cut short by a tap on my shoulder. The woman looked down at me.

"Sweetheart, what's your name?" The prim woman asked. I looked up at her, my once gleaming blue eyes now dark and hollow. She flinched. The look in my eyes must have said something, because she edged away from me unconsciously. Wanting to be done with this, I told her what she was looking for.

"Emily Elizabeth Smith. Age eight," I said tonelessly. My voice was as hollow as the look in my eyes. Hurriedly, she looked down the list. Finding it quickly, she called the name of my new caretaker.

"Markus Schaffer!"

I looked out the door. There was an old man looking back from behind his thick glasses. Tilting my head, I stood in the door confused. Was he to be my guardian? He could be my grandfather, if mine wasn't already dead and buried back home. I looked him over quickly, hoping for more clues. The first thing I noticed was that he was short. Taller than the child I was, but much shorter than the other adults. The second thing I noticed was the coat he was wearing. It was white and clean, albeit a little soot that had come from the leftover fires. ' _It was a doctor's coat'_ my mind supplied. The third and final thing I noticed was the accent.

"Well Liebling, do I meet your standards?" He huffed, sounding amused. I was even more confused. I had never heard someone talk like that before! My face scrunched up at the confusing thoughts flittering through my head. The man chortled again at that, short and soft, gone within the moment. He smiled at me.

"As the frau said, my name is Markus Schaffer. Most people in this town call me doctor Schaffer, though." I smiled at that, happy that I was right. Hopping off the bus steps, I walked forward to his spot next it. ' _My mother said to be quiet, but I won't get in trouble for talking to him, right?'_

"My name is Emily Elizabeth Smith, but most people just call me Emily," I softly replied to him. He huffed another short laugh at that. "Is that so? Well Liebling, I'm sure we shall get along splendidly!" He offered his hand to me. I was nervous, but I took it. His calloused hand enclosed my tiny pale one. As he led me away, I couldn't help but think.

 _Maybe this won't be as bad as I thought._


End file.
